I once asked god about the heat in New Orleans; why it is that, everything plastic just bent out of shape there; the streets, the people, our house. I wondered to myself why as I leaned against my bedroom wall, I could swear the incline was shifting, and that I was opening seams for critters to intrude. I guess, it was just his will for us, and for the neighbors to always wonder about us. I didn't want to ask him about my eye, but I lingered by the bath mirror. It was the one on the left; the on
The brown in the syringe was then submerged with a flush of red, and caused a trail of blood to flow down his calve, right down to one of his other scars;
It was obvious that this was one of his ‘younger ones; probably, a week old, maybe two. The numerous others were darker and had a dry sheen to them. He scooped the blood into his mouth a few times
He mumbled about something, and lip smacked from his index finger exiting. The blood had slowed as he rolled his dirty pant leg down and removed his old gator off the seat cushion from the plastic chair. I tried to relax but my stomach wouldn’t. Figures; that’s what I get. I get exactly what I get! I slouched forward, tucking my hair back into the hoodie.
“There it go. There you go.”He said as his words went into the roof of the attic and deadened. he shifted into a daze and closed his eyes. He wained in silence and small circumference.He staggered to press against the wall. I happened to imagine it was much like standing on tarmac and feeling the force of a plane sailing above.
Low wheezing came in the form of laughter while his friend sitting on the dirty mattress with the foil and lighters beside him on the floor giggled;both their minds were off the block.”My mind felt compressed like the attic.Oh and about that front door.It was nailed and boarded,we came in from the window and as sure the low light and hard shadows of a fading afternoon that made me more unsettled.The greater fact is that I decided to follow into this dare; even though it had to be done;somehow, it felt worthy .
You Straight gutter; No additives, no preservatives, you heard me?” the two shared a fist pound and then, junkie with the injection looked at me, striking a pose with the syringe pointed up wards, as though he was resting a shot gun against the collar bone
” How you feel shawty?”I shrugged off course.” I don’t know.” I said as phlegm built up in my throat. I pushed it down quietly .He arched ."I want look at you,cause you like, the bes shawty"
I gave a comfortable smile and nodded. It was hard to look into his eyes though and the hairs on my back were reading into his thoughts; that and whatever else that happened to those teeth. He would bite his lower lip softly, and I would look down.Don’t piss him off
"Well I -know.” He said after tossing the injection on the floor and standing up.he turned away and made slow steps forward.He stretched out and his beach shirt waved in the breeze that was passing through the stair case window house. he wasn’t and he patted his chest.” I know exactly how-I feel, shawty.” He laughed, hysterically and looked down at his friend
They called those types of scars, potholes and the substance, black tar. It was the kind of thing that made a ‘mahrfucker’ like him; as he liked to say, feel like he was melting.